The Village’s Djinn Secret | A True Horror Story

True Horror Story | Affected by an old village djinn story, Uğur experiences terrifying events with his friends Kadir and Melih. A black goat, disappearances, and nightmares are part of black magic woven with betrayal.

I was born in my own village, grew up here, and perhaps I will die here. My name is Uğur. My family never sent me to school. While my friends ran along the school roads as children, I shed sweat in the fields with a shovel in my hand. My mother and father forced me to work in our garden, as if there were no other life. As I grew up, I had no time to do anything but work. The more I worked, the more detached I became from life. I would wake up every morning to the sound of roosters, but even their crowing meant nothing to me anymore. While working in the garden, the smell of the earth, the calluses on my hands, the scorching heat of the sun… These were parts of my life, and I hated them all. I loved my family, but I didn’t love the life they made me live. Every evening when I returned home exhausted, I had to face reality looking at my reflection in the mirror. As a child with calloused hands, a sorrowful heart, but still clinging to hope, I made a promise to myself: One day I would escape this village, change my life, and take back everything my family had stolen from me.

I have two friends in the village I get along with. They, like me, didn’t go to school and grew up working. Kadir was a mischievous, cheerful boy who wasn’t afraid to plunge his hand into the earth even in the deepest parts of the fields, but he hid a deep sadness in his eyes. We often talked while working in the garden. He, like me, was forced to work by his family. My other friend, Melih, was introverted. Melih was always hardworking, focused on doing his job to the best of his ability. I saw a desire for escape in his eyes, but he couldn’t find the courage to voice this wish. These two friends were the most precious parts of my life in the village. Dreaming together with them eased the fatigue brought by work, at least a little.

Every evening after going home and taking a shower, we would go hang out at the village coffee house. Since we had no other activity, our days passed boringly like this. Exhaustion was already at its peak, our brains melted from the heat; we thought we’d at least chat a bit and vent. Again one evening, while sitting at the coffee house, we overheard a conversation among the village elders. The village elders were generally quiet men, reserved and serious. But that evening, they were whispering among themselves and had started telling an interesting story.

“In the old days, when our village was first founded, they went through very hard times. The first households here had to seek help from the djinns to survive,” said the hoca. When I heard the sentence, I started listening more carefully. Another old man nodded and continued: “Yes, that’s right. The djinns posed a great danger in the village back then. They threatened people’s lives, spread fear. At that time, a very brave person had to kill a djinn and bury it somewhere around the village to end this,” he said. The boys and I looked at each other. They were making mocking faces, but I had already fallen into this flood of fear.

“This brave villager’s name was Ali. Screams would rise from houses at midnight, people’s belongings would disappear, fields would be ruined overnight. It was thought that the djinns had infested the village and these events were their doing. The presence of djinns caused great fear in the village. Villagers didn’t dare leave their homes at night. It was believed that the djinns confused people’s minds and drove them mad. Sometimes, even kidnapping and disappearance incidents occurred. Many villagers had to leave the village due to these horrific events and moved to neighboring villages. Nobody let their children play outside; when darkness fell, they kept the doors and windows of their houses tightly shut. While the village elders were looking for a way to get rid of the djinns, Ali decided to make a plan on his own. Outside the village, there was a cave considered the dwelling place of the djinns. Ali went to this cave at midnight without telling anyone. He had nothing but a torch and his courage. When Ali returned to the village, he didn’t say anything about what he encountered in the cave. After this event, no major disaster happened in the village again. But some rumors and hearsay in the village suggested that the tribal leader who had afflicted them was killed by Ali and buried somewhere around the village. Ali was never seen again after that night and vanished into thin air,’ he said.

As this story was told, there was both fear and pride in the old men’s eyes. Ali’s courage had left deep marks on the village’s memory. By discovering the truth in the darkness of that night, he had shed light on the village’s future. There was a moment of silence in the coffee house. Listening to this story, a shiver ran down my spine. This struggle between djinns and the old villagers cast a dark shadow over our village. It was as if a secret hidden for years had been revived in this coffee house.

Melih looked at me with a mocking smile and said, “What happened? Scared, Uğur? Afraid of the djinns?” Kadir also started laughing. “Come on, Uğur, these are just tales the old men made up. They can’t find anything else to do in this village and just talk to create some excitement,” he said. But I was genuinely affected by what I heard. The thought that djinns might still be wandering the dark nights of the village wouldn’t leave my mind. Amidst my friends’ mockery, the weight of the story took hold of me even more. I wanted to learn more about the djinns and our village’s past. Perhaps the village’s silence, this peace, was part of that old pact made with the djinns. As I left the coffee house that night, there was a great unease within me.

That fearful evening, I started walking home from the coffee house. My friends had dispersed to their homes, saying things like, “No need to be scared, stuff like that never happened, be sure,” but it went in one ear and out the other. The unease inside me grew steadily. Listening intently with my ears pricked, I paid attention to every rustle and the whisper of the wind. As I neared home, a black goat suddenly caught my eye. The goat, standing out in the darkness, stood there silently. I quickly looked around but couldn’t see anyone. Saying the Basmala (Bismillah), I started approaching the goat step by step. The goat looked at me calmly, as if it wanted to tell me something. While focused on the goat, suddenly a stone hit my back from behind. I jumped in fright, and when I turned around, I saw Kadir. My heart was pounding like it would burst out of my chest. Kadir started laughing heartily with a mocking expression. “Don’t be scared, it’s me, man! You’re so naive,” he said and continued laughing. Anger and fear mixed within me. I wanted to kill him right there and then, I was so angry. I took a step towards Kadir, hurled a few insults at him. Then I turned back again, but I couldn’t see the goat. I looked around, but it was nowhere. Turning back, I said, “Kadir, did you see the goat just now?” but there was no one to answer me. Kadir had also vanished. Where could the boy who was behind me just two seconds ago have gone? A great sense of bewilderment and helplessness washed over me. I took a deep breath and reached the door. I quietly opened the door and went inside. I went to my room and lay down on my bed. When I closed my eyes, I kept remembering the fear-filled moments of that instant. What I had just experienced had deeply affected me. Even with my eyes closed, the goat’s gaze was before my eyes. Why was that goat there? Was it really Kadir who threw that stone, or was it something else? That night, I understood there was a fine line between fear and reality. Perhaps I would never fully understand that moment.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, the fearful memories of the night still occupied my mind. However, I must have fallen asleep quickly because the sun had already risen, illuminating the room. I quickly got out of bed and started making breakfast. I wanted to tell my father, but we didn’t have a very good relationship. Torn between telling and not telling, I finally chose not to tell the story. I didn’t want to increase the tension between my father and me further. After breakfast, we had to go to the field together. Kadir and Melih were also working in their own fields. We worked until noon, and during the lunch break, I went over to the boys. They were sitting, laughing among themselves. I went up to them, but as soon as I arrived, the anger I felt towards Kadir suddenly flared up. “I will never forgive you for last night’s prank! One doesn’t do that to another person, man, you were way out of line!” I shouted. Kadir looked at me as if he didn’t understand what was happening, still grinning. “What prank, what prank? What happened again?” he asked. “I’m talking about you throwing a stone at my back and scaring me when I was going home from the coffee house last night, or did you forget?” I snapped. Seeing my seriousness, Kadir’s expression suddenly turned sober. “Uğur, last night I went straight home, I never came near you. Am I crazy to throw stones at you in the middle of the night? If you don’t believe me, ask Melih, he dropped me home,” he said. I looked at Melih; he looked back at me with the same seriousness. I let out a big sigh. As I tried to digest the words I heard, my head got even more confused. At that moment, anger and fear mixed within me. Was what I experienced last night just a dream? But those terrifying memories and the vanished goat… How could these be explained? Filled with confusing thoughts, I returned to the field and continued working, but the unease of that moment never left me. I spent the rest of the day like this. Now I felt like I had falsely accused him and hurt his feelings, suffering from pangs of conscience.

Anyway, as evening fell, we went to our homes. As I expected, he held a grudge against me. I called, he didn’t answer. Melih also said he didn’t want to go out. So I went to the coffee house alone. While sitting there idly, drinking tea, the man who told the story yesterday came in. This time, instead of joining his other friends, he came directly to me and greeted me. After ordering a tea, he said, “Look, young man, we tell stories like this sometimes. I noticed the fear in your eyes yesterday. Nothing like this ever happened in this village. I mean, it’s completely our fabrication. Besides, if it had happened, nobody could live in this village now. I scared you too, forgive me. Say hello to your father,” he said and went over to the others. I paused for a moment. I felt relieved, freed from a great burden. But as they sat there talking among themselves, they were pointing at me. I looked carefully, trying to understand, but couldn’t. Then my phone rang, breaking my concentration. It was Kadir. When I said I was at the coffee house, he came. Melih arrived 5 minutes later. When I said things like, “Weren’t you not coming out?” he replied harshly, “Well, we came out, didn’t we?” After remaining silent for a while, I apologized for what I said today. Although he initially played hard to get, with Melih’s support, we made up. Then I told them about the man coming up to me and what he said. They made fun of me there too, saying things like, “Didn’t we tell you it was a lie?” Then Kadir said, “Let’s not sit here today, let’s go out for a walk.” It was instantly approved, and we finished our last sips and left the coffee house.

We walked aimlessly, not knowing where we were going. We walked a little away from the village. After finding an open space and sitting there, a deep conversation started. We were right behind the cemetery. “Did you bring me here on purpose?” I asked, laughing. “Exactly, so you get scared and give us something to laugh about,” said Melih. This time, I had no intention of being scared. In fact, to show my courage, I stood up and started wandering around. I even entered the wooded area near the cemetery. They were talking and laughing among themselves. Then my foot suddenly caught on something. I stumbled but grabbed a tree before falling. There was a small stone stuck upright in the ground; I had tripped on it. I was going to pull the stone out to look at it, but it wouldn’t move, as if fixed in concrete. I called the boys; they came instantly. Eager to show off their strength, they tried to pull the stone out one by one, but they couldn’t succeed either. Just then, the soil where the stone was buried began to move. As if there was something underneath. We looked at each other excitedly. The same thing occurred to all three of us: Could there be treasure? We started digging the earth with our hands, but strangely, it was like digging rock; we couldn’t make any progress. We hit it with another stone, tried with a stick, but to no avail. Just then, a foul smell filled the air, like a dead animal. As I started feeling nauseous, I excused myself from the boys, walked a little distance away, and vomited. When I felt relieved and lifted my head, I saw the goat I had seen in front of my house that night. This time we were closer. There was a pair of red glowing lights where I understood its eyes to be. This time it was really in front of me. I called the boys to come, but they didn’t answer. Then I called again, still nothing. The same feelings settled back into my brain. I suddenly turned around and ran towards the boys, but they weren’t there either. Cold sweat broke out, my breath shortened. “Don’t joke around, man! Please come out! I’m really scared! Okay, you can make fun of me as much as you want, but don’t do this to me!” I said. My pitiful voice turned tearful seconds later. I was both crying and shouting. Then that stone caught my attention. As I bent down and examined the stone, it came right out as soon as I touched it. The moment it came out, dozens of scorpions scattered from under the stone. I threw the stone down and jumped back. I ran out of that clearing and onto the road. The smell was still in my nostrils.

As soon as I reached the road, I heard Kadir’s voice. “Help! Help!” he shouted. Forgetting my own trouble, I went to him. I ran towards where the voice was coming from, but no matter how close I got, I couldn’t reach him. This time I had reached him. A thick fog enveloped his surroundings. There were pickaxes and shovels on the ground. I walked through the fog and went up to him, only to see what? An empty dug grave, and inside, Kadir lying with his shroud burnt! As I stared at him with my eyes wide open, he suddenly opened his eyes. They were bright red, just like that goat’s. Then, as he slowly smiled, I saw he had no teeth. In the fear of that moment, someone touched me from behind, and I let out a huge scream. Thankfully, I came to my senses, but I was in a place I could never have imagined. I was alone in the coffee house. I had fallen asleep with my head on the table. My tea was half-finished; the boys weren’t there either. I lifted my head and looked around; everything was normal, but I was drenched in sweat. Just then, the door opened, and that old man entered. Instead of going to his friends, he came to me, greeted me, sat down. He told me that story was a lie and left. But this time, they weren’t looking at me and talking amongst themselves. I had relived exactly what I experienced in my dream. To avoid living through the rest, I got up and left the coffee house.

As I walked home, my phone rang. Knowing it was Kadir calling, I didn’t even take it out of my pocket. After a while, I saw them coming from the opposite direction. With a mix of fear, anxiety, and the embarrassment of not answering the phone, I went up to them. As soon as Melih saw me, he said, “What happened to you, man? You look terrible! Did you get sunstroke today, what happened?” Kadir laughingly added, “No, no, he definitely saw that djinn and Ali who buried the djinn, that’s why he’s like this.” In that state of mind, I couldn’t handle his joke and yelled the slang version of “Get lost, Kadir!” harshly, walking away from them. Even though they said things like, “What’s wrong now? You’re acting like a child, I swear,” from behind, I ignored them and kept walking. I entered the house and went to my room. I was furious. I couldn’t take those jokes anymore. I felt like strangling Kadir in a spoonful of water. With that anger, I went to my bed. I felt like cursing Kadir. Seeing those expressions, those condescending looks, I was losing myself. I couldn’t sleep until morning due to anger and stress. Then I must have dozed off for a bit. In the morning, although I didn’t want to get up at all, I got up when my father woke me. When I went to the field, they were working in their own fields. I didn’t want to see either of them. What I had experienced had messed with my psychology. During the lunch break, they came over to me. Melih looked sad. “We were too hard on you, brother, forgive us,” he said. When Kadir added, “If he acts childish like this, we’ll be even harder on him. Besides, why are you apologizing to this simpleton,” I stood up and, in that anger, threw a hard punch at Kadir. He fell and got back up in an instant, and we started fighting. Instead of separating us, Melih watched. Before we could harm each other more, our families arrived and separated us. Then we listened to a ton of advice. Things like, “You are brothers, you grew up together, does this suit you?” etc. As we parted, I told Kadir, “If you talk like this again, it will be worse.” “Whatever you wish, whoever is afraid of you is just like you,” he said and walked away.

I went home in that anger. I wrecked everything in my room. My anger wouldn’t subside. After calming down a bit, I tidied my room again and went outside. While walking aimlessly, I ran into Melih. I pretended not to see him, but when he came up and took my arm, I had to turn to him. “Look Uğur, I don’t want things to be like this between you two. We’re childhood friends. Let’s go and make peace. Besides, I’m caught in the middle. Please don’t do this to me,” he said. I calmly pulled him to a corner and explained my problem. I told him I didn’t want to be treated like this, that I was very affected by what that man said, and about the reality of the dream I had last night at the coffee house. Just then, his phone rang. “My dad’s calling, we’ll talk tonight,” he said and quickly walked away. I went back home again and passed the time idly. At dinner, my father, who already didn’t like me, increased my anger level by saying things like, “You embarrassed us in front of the village.” I left my meal half-eaten and got up from the table. My father shouted things like, “You’ll be the death of me! You won’t get anywhere acting like this!” from behind me. When I went to my room, my phone rang. Melih said, “I’m waiting outside.” I replied, “Look, if Kadir is with you and you want us to make peace, don’t even bother, I’m not coming.” “No, Kadir is not with me, I swear,” he said. I put on my clothes and went outside, blocking out my father’s shouts.

We went to a secluded place, and he asked me to tell him again what I saw in my dream. After explaining in detail, he asked, “Can you remember where it was though?” “I remember roughly, of course, if such a place really exists,” I said. “Well then, let’s go,” he said. I didn’t want to experience the same fear again, but after much insistence, we started walking there. We really walked the same paths I walked in my dream, heard the same rustling bushes. When that dead animal smell hit my nose, I knew we had arrived, but Melih didn’t seem to smell it. Visualizing it in my mind, I came to the place where the stone was, but there was no stone around. “My dream ended here,” I said. Then the smell intensified, and I felt like throwing up again. This time, not going too far, I kept an eye on my surroundings and vomited. I was literally praying not to see that goat. As I walked back towards Melih, Kadir’s voice reached my ear. At that moment, Melih and I locked eyes. This time we shared the same feelings and heard Kadir’s voice together. “Where is that voice coming from?” Melih asked nervously. “I know where it’s coming from; it’s coming from inside the cemetery,” I said. I thought very briefly at that moment and decided to go to the cemetery to prove everything. I grabbed Melih’s arm, but he was trembling, even crying. “I’m so scared, Uğur, please let’s not go,” he said. “Come on, nothing will happen, I’ll prove everything to you. You will feel what I felt too,” I said and literally dragged him into the cemetery, towards where Kadir’s voice was coming from. There was a fog cloud again. I let go of Melih’s arm. Although he helplessly said things like, “Don’t, let’s get out of here,” I was determined. That empty grave was really there, but there was no one inside. Kadir’s voice had also stopped. “See? Nobody’s here. Let’s go now,” he said. “Okay, but you won’t forget this empty grave, the fog cloud around it, that foul smell, hearing Kadir’s voice. You’ll stand by me no matter what,” I said. “Okay, I promise. Just let’s get out of here,” he said.

As we slowly walked away from the grave, a stone hit my back. This time, that stone knocked the wind out of me. Before I had a chance to turn around, dozens of stones hit my head rapidly. When I fell to the ground, there was no one around me. I could feel the blood flowing from my head. I called out to Melih as loud as I could. He wasn’t there; nobody was there. As my vision slowly darkened, I felt myself being dragged and thrown like a sack onto my back into a pit. When I slightly opened my eyes, a bright light blinded me. As if paralyzed, I couldn’t use my hands. I could feel insects crawling on my face. I was helpless. I realized I had fallen into that grave. I couldn’t even cry. The effect of the ice-cold earth touching my back dragged me to entirely different places. I didn’t even have the strength to pray internally. I couldn’t even say “Allah.” The insects crawling on my face, the whispers coming from my right and left, the foul smell filling my nose made me feel worse than dead. What hurt most was being unable to do anything. My mother came to mind, my father came to mind. I wish we could have gotten along better, I wish they could have seen me as their own child and embraced me. Silence and darkness were terrifying. I was in a hopeless situation. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. It was as if time had stopped. Somewhere inside me, Kadir’s screams and voice still echoed. After a while, I closed my eyes again. Maybe I was really dead, and this was a torment of the grave. But it didn’t end. As time passed, there was no change in the darkness surrounding me. This silence and darkness were driving me crazy. I felt like a long time had passed; I didn’t know how long. I opened my eyes again. This time I could see more. There was a pale moon in the sky and the thick branches of trees hiding the moon. I noticed a dark shadow above the grave I was in. Maybe Melih had come back to help. I wanted to lift my head and ask for help, but I could neither lift my head nor make a sound. Then a handful, then a shovel full of earth… They were literally burying me alive. Now I was completely enveloped in darkness, trying to take my last breath. As I took the last remaining oxygen, I woke up with earth entering my mouth.

This time I was in my room, in my bed. My father was still telling my mother, “He gets up and leaves without finishing his meal! Look, this crosses the boundaries of respect, it goes against our customs and traditions! He’ll be the death of me one day!” etc. I understood this way that not much time had passed for me. As soon as I lifted my head, pieces of earth fell from me onto my bed. Then I spat out the earth accumulated in my mouth. I immediately got out of bed and went screaming to the kitchen. Seeing my state, my mother asked in astonishment, “What happened to you, son?” I collapsed on the floor, fell at my father’s feet, and told him everything, crying. I no longer had the strength to hold it in or to live. I cried for minutes. My father couldn’t believe it, but my mother immediately started searching for solutions. Through this, she was also taking care of me. My mother made a few phone calls. Then she told me to go into the bathroom and clean myself thoroughly. She waited outside the door until I finished washing, occasionally calling out to prevent me from getting scared. I was both terrified to my bones and filled with peace experiencing such an emotion with my mother for the first time, but my fear still outweighed it, of course. I cleaned up thoroughly, got dressed, and came out of the bathroom. My mother sat me down opposite her and read the Quran for a while. For some reason, I didn’t want to listen. I was also wondering about Melih and Kadir. How were they? Because I had learned it was a dream now, but I couldn’t find an explanation for the earth stuck to me and the earth I spat out. If it wasn’t a dream, it was even more frightening. I couldn’t sleep until morning. My mother stayed by my side. It was the first time I had been so close to my mother. I understood motherly love then. When the morning call to prayer sounded, she made me pray. I didn’t want to pray at all, but after praying, a sense of peace filled me. My father had also woken up. With much persuasion, we got in the car and left the village. My mother said we were going to a hoca. About half an hour later, we stopped in front of a house. My mother tidied herself up, got out of the car, and knocked on the door. A man opened the door. After talking for a while, my mother called me, and amidst my father’s complaints of “Why do you believe such nonsense?”, I got out of the car and went to them. We entered the house together. The moment I stepped inside, my head spun. Just as I was about to fall, the hoca caught me by the arm. We went into a room. He brought a glass of water. After drinking the water, my dizziness and the weight on me lessened. Then he asked my mother to step outside and asked me to tell him everything from beginning to end, in the smallest detail. I couldn’t control myself; I cried. “Don’t cry, child, we will solve everything,” he said. The hoca started preparing his materials.

After carefully arranging his materials, a deep silence fell upon the room. Only the sound of the hoca whispering prayers could be heard inside the room. As for me, I watched everything with fear and curiosity. My eyes were on the hoca. The hoca lit a special incense and filled the surroundings with smoke. The intense smell of the incense filled the room, and the smoke spread gently. Then he started writing strange symbols and inscriptions on the walls and the door. The writings were in an ancient and unknown language; filled with letters and symbols I couldn’t recognize at all. The hoca began to explain the meaning of these symbols and writings to me. “These symbols and writings are used to ward off evil spirits and negative energies. We will combine our prayers with the power of these symbols,” he said. The smoke spread to every corner of the room, seemingly enveloping the room in a protective shield. Then he took my right hand and wrote and drew something on my palm. He wrote my name, date of birth, and my mother’s name on a piece of paper. After writing something on the back of the paper as well, he held it to the candle flame and dropped it into the bowl in front of me. As it burned, my vision blurred. I passed out before I could see it turn to ash. Believe me, I don’t remember what happened. I only remember feeling reborn when I came to.

When I opened my eyes, the hoca’s hand was on my forehead. I could see he was out of breath. The veins on his forehead were prominent, sweat was dripping. When the hoca finished the procedures with the symbols and prayers he wrote, he tiredly drew back and sat on the chair. As for me, still rubbing my eyes from the effect of the smoke in the room, I was wondering what the hoca would do next and what would happen. I didn’t speak at all, just waited for the hoca to say something. After the hoca caught his breath and rested, he brought his chair opposite me. As I looked at the hoca with curious eyes, he began to speak after saying the Basmala:

“Look, child, a friend of yours does not wish you well and is trying to drive a wedge between you and other people, especially your other friend. I can’t say who it is, but you must have understood from his behavior. Black magic has been buried to spoil your relationship. The place shown to you in your dream is where the magic was buried. A friend of mine went and dug it up and neutralized its effect. You won’t have such dreams anymore. That goat was also an allied ifrit, waiting for an opportunity for something to happen to you. I have cleansed all the negative energy from you. You are better now. I will also give you protective prayers. You will read them before sleeping at night. Now I will ask something of you. You will stay with me for a week. I will cover all your expenses,” he said.

With the shock, sadness, and fear of what I heard, I averted my eyes from the hoca. How could they do this to me? What did they want from me? The three of us got along just fine. I knew who did it, and I would teach him a lesson as soon as I returned. What the hoca told me confirmed the reality of the incident I experienced. However, the hoca wanted me to stay for a week. He wanted something in return for the kindness he did me. Refusing would be unbecoming. So, I put everything aside and agreed to stay. He opened the door and let my mother in. Then he turned to me and said, “Tell your mother if you want, or don’t tell her, keep it to yourself. But if you ask me, don’t tell anyone except your mother, not even your father,” he said. My mother and I hugged; I held her tight. I breathed in the scent I had longed for since birth. My mother stroked my head. I will never forget this feeling for the rest of my life. When I told my mother I would stay for a week, she accepted with pleasure. They went and brought me clothes and left.

For a week, I prayed with the hoca, we talked. He taught me the purpose of the talismanic things he wrote and drew. It was knowledge I didn’t know and that most people couldn’t teach. No one like him had ever come into my life. I would have liked to watch myself from the outside or listen to the experiences and lives of people who went through things like me. Normally, people would come every two or three days, but luckily for me, nobody came. At the end of the week, I left that house as a completely different person. I kissed his hand, asked for his blessing, got in the car, and went home.

When I first heard, killing was on my mind, but thanks to the hoca, all my bad feelings were gone anyway. Both Kadir and Melih had hastily moved away from the village with their families. That’s when it hit me. If the hoca had sent me away like that on the first day he explained things, trouble would have broken out when I arrived in the village, perhaps even bloodshed. But the hoca foresaw this and didn’t send me. I truly became a better person in every field. They couldn’t harm me physically. Thanks to the hoca, I handled the rest. I never had those dreams again. I still don’t know if what that old man told was true or a lie. My relationship with my mother is better too. This goodness reflects on my father as well, and the ice between us is slowly melting. I never saw Kadir and Melih again, never even heard their names. I can guess which one did it, I’m even sure, but I’m not saying definitively to avoid accusing them wrongfully.